


Pleasure My Business

by thegreatgayjatsby



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Biting, Canon Era, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Pet Names, Rough Sex, Safe Sane Loving & Consensual, Slice of Life, Smut, dirty talking, relationship dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10056086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby
Summary: "The rule of my life is to make business a pleasure and pleasure my business." --Aaron BurrAaron and Charles take a moment to themselves during the war.





	

**Author's Note:**

> aaron burr mmmmmm good shit also lowkey puppyplay lmao

The harsh canvas of the Congress-issued cot was rough beneath Lee’s knees when Aaron spoke to him. The tent was dim, lit only by the flickering of a single candle. It was so late it could be considered early in the next morning, and Aaron Burr had once again found himself in Charles Lee’s tent, situated on the general’s cot between his legs. Lee was face down, ass up; a familiar position for them. He always had enjoyed being treated like a dog.

“Be patient, Charlie.”

A low whimper bubbled up in Charles’ throat, and the general angled his hips back a little.

“I said, _be patient_.”

Charles bit his lower lip, took a low breath, then arched his back pointedly.

“Charles.”

His name was enunciated with a sharp smack across the backs of his thighs, and he hissed, sinking forward onto his elbows. Aaron ran his hand up over Lee’s ass, squeezing briefly before murmuring, “I’m not going to touch you if you can’t listen, you dumb dog.”

Charles moaned. Aaron hit him again, a little lighter, and folded himself along his back, mouth drawing a hot line of kisses up his neck. Charles squirmed under him, legs spreading, and mumbled out, “Please, Ronnie.”

“Please, what, puppy?” Aaron’s voice was low and gravely in Lee’s ear as he continued, hands burning along the general’s sides. “You know how to ask for what you want.”

“Want you to fuck me.” Charles breathed, fingers curling anxiously in the bedlinens. “Please.”

Aaron paused above him, pressing a feather-light kiss to his temple as he shifted between Lee’s legs. Charles whined again, softly, and pressed back until he could feel Aaron’s cock against his thigh. Aaron’s weight shifted again, and Charles closed his eyes as the familiar sound of a cork popping free of a little glass vial reached his ears.

“I didn’t quite catch that.” Burr finally intoned, even as a slick finger grazed its way up between Charles’ thighs. “And I’m not sure you addressed me properly.”

“I want you to _fuck me_ , Lieutenant Colonel.” Charles’ voice broke a little as Aaron slipped his finger into him. Aaron quirked it a little and hummed appreciatively, stooping to kiss Charles’ neck.

“That so?” Burr murmured, tone thoughtful, as he pressed a second digit in alongside the first.

Lee relished in the lazy burn of Aaron stretching him, head lolling a little to afford Burr more room to kiss his neck. His shoulder blades jutted as he hoisted himself onto his elbows so he could press more of his weight back onto Burr’s fingers, and Burr kissed the lines of the muscles on his back as he did so.

“Yes, it’s so.” He felt heavy in all the right ways, slurring a little when he spoke and picking up a sharp rhythm with his hips.

Aaron’s free hand steadied him by holding his waist, keeping him firmly in place and pausing his movements as he withdrew his fingers. They returned after a pregnant moment, a third alongside the first two, slicker than before. Charles squirmed when Burr’s fingers breached him, the other officer pressing them into Lee at an agonizingly slow pace.

“More.” Lee demanded, and Aaron sighed, low and long-sufferingly. No matter how many times Burr tried to teach Charles to wait patiently, the general still wanted to barrel through things at top speed.

Charles huffed a little desperate sound through his nose. “ _More_ ,” He insisted, voice lilting into a whine, and Aaron compliantly gave a rough push into him.

Lee choked on a sound and pressed his face into the pillow, muffling himself as he rolled his hips against the pressure. Aaron repeated the gesture, his hand leaving Lee’s hip to instead tangle in Charles’ hair. Charles mewled as Aaron yanked him up by his hair, jerking hard enough that his scalp stung and tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

“Do _not_ quiet yourself. I want to hear every little whimper I fuck out of you, _General_.” Aaron punctuated his words by locating Lee’s sweet-spot and pressing down on it, hard and unrelenting.

Charles panted harshly, the muscles of his neck and shoulders taught against Burr’s grip in his hair, and nodded eagerly.

“Speak when you’re spoken to, dog.”

“Yes, _yes_ —fuck okay, _Aaron_ , please—”

The sudden lack of Aaron’s fingers within him and in his hair made Lee mewl discontentedly, straining to look over his shoulder. Burr met his heady gaze with a mischievous smile, a hand wrapped around his cock to slick it with oil. Charles swallowed weakly, knowing he looked every part of a bitch in heat and enjoying every second of it.

He licked his lips, eyes locked on Burr’s face as the man wiped his hand lazily off on a discarded shirt, then gripped Lee’s hips, maneuvering him as he pleased. Charles rolled compliantly onto his back, ever the dog, more than happy to go belly-up for Burr. Aaron took a moment to settle between Lee’s legs, and he pulled Lee down the cot a little with one rough movement.

Charles whined, hitching his legs over Aaron’s hips, and draped his arms over his shoulders. Aaron casually bent to sink his teeth into the juncture of where Charles’ neck met his shoulder, suckling up a mark there. He nudged his hips forward, reaching a hand between them to line himself up, and spoke roughly into Lee’s neck as he began to press into him.

“You’re a good boy, Charlie, you know that? Such a good puppy for me. Gonna’ fuck you just the way you like it, okay?”

Charles nodded, fingers scrabbling a little along the plane of Aaron’s back before settling to grip. He clawed a set of lines with his nails, then settled, tucking his face to Aaron’s cheek and moaning as the other filled him. The general gasped lowly, heels digging into the small of Aaron’s back, and tipped his head back, eyes fixing on the v of the tent ceiling.

The hand that Aaron had slipped between them to guide himself into Lee came up to grip Charles’ jaw, forcing his head down so Burr could look him in the face. Charles gazed at him through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown wide, lips swollen from rough kissing.

Burr grinned at the sight, eyes searching Lee’s face for a moment, then thrusted. Charles bit into his lower lip, hard, eyes rolling up in pleasure. “Fuck.” He stated breathlessly, running a hand up to curve along the nape of Aaron’s neck.

“I am, puppy.” Aaron responded cheekily, releasing Charles’ jaw to bury his hand back into his hair.

He timed his next thrust with a tug of Charles’ hair, and Lee whimpered, eyes cracking open to fix on Burr’s face as he moved. Aaron settled into a familiar rhythm, fucking Charles hard and deep. Lee switched where his hands lay every few thrusts, struggling to find a good grip on Aaron’s back.

Burr gave a particularly hard thrust, teeth grazing over Charles’ collarbone, and Lee raked his nails down Aaron’s back, trying to muffle a cry by turning his face to the pillow. Aaron growled and turned his face back up with a harsh grasp on his jaw, pressing their foreheads together. Charles tilted his face up for a kiss, and he jerked his hips a little, offsetting Burr’s rhythm.

Aaron pinned him down, one forearm across his throat, and righted the motions of his hips. He sped up a little, wrist twisting a little awkwardly to transfer his grip in Lee’s hair to his other hand. Aaron slid his other between them, gripping Charles’ cock and thumbing over the head.

Charles gasped, teeth catching Burr’s lower lip, and arched his back, pressing up into Aaron. Aaron shoved him down a little harder, pace quickening even more. Charles moved to grip Aaron’s arm, nails leaving crescent moon indents in Aaron’s skin. He sobbed out a high, desperate sound, legs shifting higher around Aaron’s waist, and tossed his head back.

Lee felt Burr’s smile on his neck, Aaron’s hand matching his hips, and then, he was coming. The hand lingering on Aaron’s back clutched at his shoulder, clawing a little before finding a grip there. He bit into his lower lip to try and quiet himself, but Aaron released his hair, thumbing his lip out from between his teeth. Charles cried out, shaking, and clung tighter to Burr.

Aaron gave a few more solid thrusts before burying himself in Lee, head bowed to his chest, hips jerking a little as he came. When Lee managed to open his eyes, still trembling, Aaron had withdrawn from him, but still hovered between his legs, arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Charles grinned a little dopily, and Aaron smiled softly, kissing the edge of his mouth. Burr sank into his arms, relaxing, and Charles clutched at him, drawing him closer and nuzzling at him before kissing him. Aaron ran his hand through Lee’s hair, gentle and sweet, and they lay for a moment, panting, before Aaron moved to sit up.

Charles’ hands dropped to the cot as Burr moved across his tent to procure a cloth from the washbasin. Lee watched sleepily as Aaron returned to his side, cleaning the spend from his stomach and from between his legs. He lay limp and complacent, one hand coming up to tenderly trace the bitemark Burr had left on his neck.

Aaron discarded the rag in the washbasin after cleaning himself, then stepped into his smallclothes, doing up the laces before slipping into bed at Lee’s side. Charles turned his back to Aaron, content with his nudity, and closed his eyes. Aaron slid an arm around Charles’ waist and kissed along the back of his neck, thumb rubbing soft circles into the hollow of his hip.

They lay quietly for a long moment, one of Lee’s hands entwining with Burr’s, before Charles whispered, “I love you.”

Aaron’s grip on his fingers tightened. “I know.” He breathed, laying a kiss over the bitemark. “I love you, Charlie.”

Charles glowed with happiness, chest tight and warm as he pressed back into Aaron’s arms. Aaron wrapped him up tighter, kissing him again, and ordered, “Go to sleep, puppy. You have expenditure reports to attend to in the morning.”

Lee huffed a little laugh, obediently curling up and closing his eyes. Aaron shifted to make room on the small cot, and stroked a hand through Lee’s hair. He would hold the general for a while, ensuring he actually had gone to sleep, then would dress and retire back to his own tent. They were discreet enough for wartime, but it being late into the small hours of the morning, Aaron wasn’t too concerned with appearances.

He smiled to himself as Charles’ breathing evened out, kissing his cheek before relaxing. Perhaps he would wait a while longer. Burr blew out the candle on the cotside folding table, sending them into darkness, and drew Lee closer to him.

Charles made a small, content noise in his sleep, and Aaron’s heart twisted. Yes. He could wait a while longer.

 

 

 

 


End file.
